Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even kinda true. Written by Scott Lee Williams

Monday, February 12, 2018

We Can Only Hope

Everyone, including me, seems "off" today, so I am unsurprised when this guy comes on the train, his energy all spikey, and sprawls his long, lanky frame over the bench opposite me.

I keep my headphones on as he tries to engage the couple next to me in conversation, but apparently it's not all that successful, as he ends up shaking his head in disgust at them and lapsing into silence.

But he's not able to stay still for long, and he reaches into the plastic bag he's carrying, pulls out a beer and a lighter, which he uses to pop the top (this despite the medallion from which glowers a disapproving Haile Selassie dangling around his neck), and takes a deep swig.